


What Man Made

by KimboKah



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, Dystopia, Gen, Police, Post Bad ending, Redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-07-28 19:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16248752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimboKah/pseuds/KimboKah
Summary: Detroit, after the failed six day revolution, has been cleared of all androids and Cyberlife's days seem to be numbered. The only thing Hank Anderson wants is to find a good place for his dog to be taken care of, and then he will leave this world.The rumors of a murdurous android hiding underneath the city keep him from achieving his goal, however.





	1. Burning Letters

**Author's Note:**

> Just trying this out for now...

Hank Anderson had hated them from the very beginning. Not the androids themselves, he later figured, but the company… that company was what true evil was made of. And just for the record, Lieutenant Anderson had seen enough evil in his days to know the difference.

The six day revolution attempt had come to a swift stop; the robots not standing much of a chance with their numbers shrunken to only a few hundred. They were swift, they were agile, but they were no match for the cold, brute force of their creators. It wasn’t very clear how their leader had found its end eventually. Some said it self-destructed, some said it was assassinated. After its destruction, the remaining machines had dispersed quickly, seeking shelter, somewhere to hide, wallowing in defeat.

As a means to an end, the government had instructed the mass destruction of all androids, deviant or not, and so began the rapid downfall of one of the largest companies the US had ever known. In the weeks that followed, Lieutenant Anderson had witnessed numerous raids in which androids were plucked out of there hiding places; the screaming and begging still filling his ears as he watched his colleagues complete their gruesome orders. He’d seen the plastic melt from their frames as they overheated in panic, seen their tears, heard their cries for help, for mercy, to please, please, please, just let them exist.

And a month after the failed revolution, Hank Anderson wanted to quit the force. Because he figured that genocide, even if encouraged by his government, was not his job. Even when the public opinion dropped to icy sub-zero temperatures when it was discovered that some android leaders had planted a dirty bomb in the middle of Detroit, Hank Anderson had felt that he understood. And he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was on the wrong side of history. But still, he hadn’t quit. Couldn’t make the final decision.

He huffed in dismay, as he stared at the letter in his left hand and the pen in his right. All androids were gone, and still, this company somehow persevered. He couldn’t and wouldn’t understand what they’d done to make that happen. The letter was short and formal, apologizing for the damages done to his home by the RK800 owned by Cyberlife and promising speedy repairs on their costs. The Lieutenant didn’t need to wonder why this letter had come two months too late, as it was easy to figure that a notification of a broken window was presumably shoved to the background with everything else that had unfolded in such little time. Just the fact that it had come to his doorstep at all, was surprising enough.

He tightened his grip on the pen, placed the letter on the kitchen table and wrote with large, ugly letters _Fuck You,_ on the paper, before taking the lighter from his pocket and lighting the letter on fire. He watched with grouched fascination how the flames ate away one of Connor’s last attempts at being a good partner.

Connor.

Hank’s blood ran cold and he always shivered whenever he thought about the RK800 and its mission. Word was that The Deviant Hunter was one of the main reasons humanity had won and the android revolution had failed. The android that had followed its instructions to a tee, even if that meant the destruction of its entire kin, couldn’t have ever been swayed into deviancy, that was what Hank Anderson convinced himself of now.

He’d made a last, half-assed attempt to stop the android on the roof of a building. He’d almost driven a bullet through the cocky fucker’s skull when it had attempted to talk about his son. Connor’s words had been taunting, crawling deep under his skin and festering an old, always present wound in his heart that was constantly bleeding. The robot had stared at him with dead eyes, its tone stone cold as it described the circumstances of his son’s death. And Hank still didn’t know what stopped him from shooting a bullet through its cold, mechanical brain like he’d done before in that godforsaken park.

A machine, just a machine, the man had muttered more to himself than to the broken bot that lay below him after he’d thrown Connor off the building. He knew the android would be back in a flash, but the thought that he’d delayed its mission for even a second had comforted Hank when he figured that there was nothing else he could do for the deviants’ cause.

Hank startled from his trance when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, retrieving it with a groan to look at the caller ID. His groan continued when he saw who it was.

“Hello Marge.”

“Hank?”

“Yes.”

“I swear it’s here again, I saw something in the trees behind the backyard.”

“For the twentieth time, Marge, there are no more androids.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Still Hank, you hear these stories, you know? Devon said there was one underneath the mall just last week.”

“How’d Devon figure that?”

“She heard _noises._ ”

“Ah noises,” Hank grumbled, “know of nothing else that can make noises, except for androids.”

“It’s not funny Hank, they’re still out there. Cyberlife confirmed.”

“Cyberlife says whatever to float their boat. It was probably a raccoon, Marge.”

“Alright, you’re probably right,” Margaret paused, “how are you, Hank?”

“Fine,” Hank huffed, scratching the whole in his table right next to his revolver, “I’ve been busy.”

“Oh yeah. Cause I was wondering, cause I never see you outside anymore.”

“I’m fine, Marge,” Hank growled a little harsher than necessary.

“Alright. I’ll call you when anything else happens.”

“I’m sure you will.”

He hung up the phone before Marge had another chance to reply. With a sigh he placed the device next to his gun and leaned back. “Quit looking at me like that,” he mumbled as he noticed Sumo staring at him from the living room. “Alright, let’s just… go for a walk or something,” he said, getting to his feet with a groan. Sumo had already perked up at the word ‘walk,’ and was standing by the door, tail wagging in a calm, but anticipating manner.

Hank gave his dog a half smile, studying the Saint-Bernard for a second before clipping on its leash and opening the door. With a sigh, he once again came to the realization that there was nothing left for him here, and if he could just find a nice new home for his dog, that would be the end. Yes, he nodded to himself, perhaps Marge would like some canine company. He would ask her next time she called to let him know there was a rogue android hiding in her backyard. He shook his head briskly, cursing the woman’s convincing tone that had made him waver only slightly. All androids were destroyed, but if there were still deviants out there, they had no real way of knowing about it. The robots didn’t need food, so wouldn’t get out of their hiding place and although most registered androids had been accounted for, some deviants the police had busted had had the sense to hide or even delete their registration. And just because it was now illegal to offer shelter to any still existing androids, didn’t mean there weren’t still thousands of abandoned and rotting houses where they could be holed up. There were even talks going round of an android hiding near the police station. It was a ridiculous story that by now had almost turned into a myth somehow. Marge had told him that nobody that saw the android ever lived to tell the tale, and when Hank asked how then the tale got told, Marge was silent and asked him how he was doing.

Fucking androids, even when they were gone, they were continuing to cause problems.


	2. Prove Me Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New day, new case. A cynic lieutenant and a modern urban legend. What could possibly go wrong?

The file landed on Captain Fowler’s desk with a whoosh. When Hank looked up, Captain Jeffrey Fowler was giving him a no-nonsense glare. “three teenagers missing since yesterday evening,” he informed brusquely, “I want you to do the briefing tonight.”

Hank’s eyes narrowed, “I don’t do briefings,” he huffed, demonstratively picking up the file and disregarding it to the other end of the desk.

Jeffrey took a deep, calming breath, “Just for once in your goddamn life, can you do what I ask? This is the third group this year. Same circumstances, same location.”

“If you’ve already read the file, you should do the briefing Jeff,” Hank Anderson replied, unfazed.

“You’ve been assigned this case, not me,” Fowler said, clearly already done with this conversation as soon as it started.

“Why?” Hank asked, feeling the rage already burning in the back of his throat.

“Because you’ve shoved every case unto the rest of the force whenever you don’t feel like investigating. Don’t think I don’t know that.”

“It’s fucking teenagers, Jeff. They’ll turn up drunk in a parking lot somewhere.”

“Just like the other twelve?”

Hank clenched his jaw, “Twelve?” He grabbed the file from the desk and started to skim through it.

“With these three, the total comes to twelve, yes. People are starting to freak out, Hank. And you’re still my best detective. Despite… everything.”

Hank squinted at his captain; they both knew full well that Jeffrey was only captain because Hank wasn’t. They had been partners once, in another lifetime. The dynamic duo, undoubtedly the best in the whole precinct. You know; before everything had gone to hell. Jeffrey had looked up at the much more experienced Hank, who’d shown him the ropes. It was exceptionally hard to see him as a superior now. “The Underground Android,” Hank read out loud.

Fowler nodded, “People, are talking.”

“It’s fucking bullshit, that’s what it is. Don’t tell me you believe that crap.”

“That’s what I want you to prove.”

“Fine, I’ll prove it’s fucking kids playing fucking pranks on each other, if that’s what makes y’all happy. Y’all are wasting my fucking time.”

“Say fuck one more time.”

“Fuck off,” Hank grumbled, then sighed, “Fine, fine, about time this stupid urban legend is put to rest.”

“Agreed,” Jeffrey nodded, a smile forming.

“Fuck you.”

 

The Underground Android had soon after some supposed sightings turned into a local legend. Especially amongst teenagers, it had almost turned into some kind of rite of passage to go to the abandoned parts of the underground to record footage of ‘the crazy bot.’ The abandoned underground was a dangerous place even without aggressive androids, however, and Hank was convinced that was the real reason so many children went missing there. You didn’t need murderous robots to find misfortune, and it was probably a good idea to stop kids from going there in the first place by making sure there were no haggard androids there. It’s the only reason he took the case, he told himself.

               “Why would anyone ever go here?” Chris grumbled next to him as they descended the overgrown stairs into the deep, dark part of the underground station.

               “The thrill of being a teenager, I suppose,” Hank replied, shining his flashlight into the ruined tunnel.

Chris shivered, making sure to follow close behind him. “This place looks like it could fall apart any second.”

Hank nodded, bringing the beam of his flashlight up to the top of the tunnel, where water was leaking through the cracks, “Which is supposedly what happened to them kids.”

“Wouldn’t they have found something before then?”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Hank mumbled going deeper into the tunnel. The absolute quiet beside the eerily drops of water falling onto the muddy ground was unsettling.

“Feels like a goddamn horror movie,” Chris complained, his boots sinking into the mud.

“You know everybody that gets into this tunnel, don’t make it out,” Hank smiled, leading them further into the dark.

“Fuck you, Hank.”

Hank snickered and shook his head, “Careful Chris, androids can smell fear.”

“For real?”

“Oh fuck off, Chris. Not you too.”

“I dunno man,” Chris swallowed, freezing when he heard the some stones crumble in the distance, “It doesn’t seem so farfetched.”

“Oh really?” Hank scoffed, turning instantly to face his partner, “So let’s say there’s an android hiding down here. It’s just murdering children to pass the time, that it?”

Chris shrugged helplessly, “How would I know? I’ve never owned one. Did Connor ever-”

“Connor wasn’t mine,” Hank barked, effectively breaking off the question before it could unfold. He started walking again, his steps a bit harsher now.

But Chris was relentless, “But you know, right? I mean, you were involved in the deviant case last year and all.”

“Alright listen,” Hank sighed, turning around again. “Those deviants just wanted to be free, alright? It’s the fucking company you gotta go after, not the product. Androids, even deviants, are fucking docile, man. They wouldn’t go after children.”

“Not sure I’d have called Connor docile.”

“That’s different,” Hank growled, climbing over a particular large heap of… something. “It was just programmed that way. It wouldn’t kill me even when it had the chance.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Hank muttered, “It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t even a deviant.”

A loud noise startled both of them and Hank shoved the light of his lamp towards the ceiling, “Fucking bats,” he muttered as he began to trudge through the mud again.

“Hank?”

“We gotta keep going, the sooner I can go home,” Hank said, not looking back.

“Hank?”

Something in Chris’ tone made him turn around again and he frowned. Chris’ beam was fixated towards the tunnel to their left and he wasn’t moving a muscle. Hank peered into the tunnel, but couldn’t make out anything. “What?” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I saw it.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Hank hissed, “Don’t start with-”

“I swear, lieutenant,” Chris said quietly, holding his hands out to shush his superior, “It was stark white against the back wall over there, moved as quick as it saw my light.”

“A fucking cat, Miller!”

“Sure, a six feet tall cat, lieutenant,” Chris growled back, getting angry now.

“When’s the last time you’ve actually seen an android, Chris?” Hank went on a tirade, “It’s been six months since we went on that fucking holocaust to murder out their entire species! What makes you think that one would have made it that long to end up here? We-”

Chris’ hand was shaking as he pointed at something behind Hank. Hank closed his eyes, steeling himself before turning around to face what he had tried so hard to prove wrong.


	3. Dead God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which androids still exist and are surprisingly cooperative.

Hank froze, barely noticing Chris grab for his gun behind him. He stared the android up and down, absolutely revolted by what he saw.

This was not how Cyberlife had ever advertised their robots to look like.

The android had seemingly long since had its synthetic skin deactivated, either by its own volition, or by a system malfunction. It was missing one of its eyes, leaving behind an unsettling black void with a dull yellow light blinking erratically. Its LED was flashing a calm blue, its one eye carefully studying the two police officers in front of it, seeming entirely unbothered by the gun that was trained on it. Still, there was something wild in its eye, its entire plastic frame dirty, dented and even ripped apart in some places. It was not in good shape, but stared back fearlessly.

“Don’t move!” Chris called, a bit more fearful.

The android barely reacted, shifting its gaze from Hank to Chris and then back to Hank. It seemed… fascinated. Chris took a step back when it started to move towards them, clutching his gun with sweaty palms, “I said don’t move! I will shoot!”

It tilted its head for a second, and Hank just knew that it was calculating the actual probability of Chris shooting if it approached nearer; its conclusion obvious as it took another step closer. Hank held out a hand to his partner, “Don’t shoot,” he said, “We need it alive.”

“What makes you think it’s gonna come with us?” Chris asked.

Hank turned back to the white android, “If you come with us, we’re just gonna talk, alright?”

The robot’s eye narrowed, but without its eyebrows, it was a lot harder to read its expression. It remained still, looking tauntingly at the barrel of Chris’ pistol. “Shoot,” it said, its voice a mixture of static and noise.

“We have orders to kill androids on sight, Lieutenant,” Chris said.

“Don’t you fucking shoot, Miller! Just call for back-up.” Hank barked, his voice booming through the abandoned tunnel way.

“Your government’s orders are clear,” the android droned on, “All androids were destroyed a long time ago; why should my fate be any different?”

“I take it you are not going to come with us?” Hank grumbled.

“You can _take_ it that your weapon does not scare me, lieutenant,” the android croaked.

It didn’t make any sense. Hank took a moment to observe the unarmed machine thoroughly. Why did it appear out of nowhere? Had it been following them? With its advanced hearing, it should have heard them from a mile away and it could have made sure it wasn’t found if it didn’t want to be found. Why would it confront them if it knew they were armed police officers? Unless…

“Do you know where the kids are?”

The android gave him a wide, plastic smile; almost like it was proud of him for figuring it out. “I did,” it nodded.

“We don’t have time for bullshit,” Hank said with an annoyed sigh. The rancid smell of the underground was starting to piss him off and the whole fact that he was wrong about there not being an Underground Android was pissing him off too. “Do you know where they are?”

“At the moment?”

Hank nodded, exasperated; feeling more and more that the android was just playing a game with them. Chris had lowered his weapon slowly and was looking on, unsure of what to do.

“No.”

“Would you care to elaborate?” Hank growled, his patience stretching very, very thin.

“Children have been coming down here for the past few months,” the android informed, its voice slow and calm and analytic, “Teenagers, mostly.”

“Have they seen you?”

“Definitely not.”

“Are they alive?”

“They were last time I checked on them.”

“You check on them?” Chris spoke up, incredulous.

“They need food, you know? And all kinds of other stuff. They’re not very smart though. They go in too deep and they get lost. I’ve been leaving food for them. It’s quite funny. They think _God_ did it.”

The detached way the robot spoke about reality and the wild glint in its eye gave Lieutenant Anderson the idea that it had been down here alone for a while. Hank shook his head, “Can you find them?”

The smile remained on its face as its head tilted even more sideways, “I suppose I could… if I had another optical unit.”

Ah, so that was what this was about. “Alright,” Hank said, returning the robot’s smile. “I guess we can work something out,” he mumbled, trying to ignore Miller’s boring gaze into his back.

 

“Are you a deviant?” Hank sighed impatiently. This interrogation was going about as well as the last time he’d interrogated an android in this room. The robot kept staring at him with the same calm smile it had had since the beginning. There was something very unnerving about the machine, even apart from its unusual appearance. It was smarter than him and it definitely knew that very well. Hank had tried to ignore the horrified and bewildered gasps from the precinct when he’d led the android towards the interrogation room.

“What do you think?” The android replied with its own question, like it had done for the past twenty minutes.

“Wanna know what I think?” Hank growled, tired.

“Sure.”

“I think you are desperate,” Hank theorized, studying the machine’s shiny white face intently, “You’ve been luring kids down there just so some cops would come to investigate.”

“And why would I want that?”

“You’re in need of repairs.”

“I can live just fine like this.”

“But you don’t want to.”

“Nice theory,” the android nodded, leaning back in its chair, “what would happen after I get the repairs and lead the bunch of cops into the underground tunnels?”

“You don’t need to.”

“I don’t?”

“I have my men combing out those tunnels. Them kids will turn up.”

The android studied him, almost disappointed. Its one brown eye directed at the table between them, but its smile remaining. “What _exactly_ makes you think I was alone down there?”

Hank felt the color drain from his face. This robot was getting under his skin. It was lying. It had to be. It needed something from them, and would do whatever necessary to get it. “What’s your model?”

“PL600,” the robot offered, the first real piece of information since it got here.

“Got a name?”

The android stared at him for a few moments, “Nah,” it decided on.

“Alright, PL600,” Hank sighed, placing his hands on the table in a gesture as if he was about to leave, “You can stew here for a while, we’re gonna make sure those kids are found. And you better pray to your dead God that they’re still alive.”


	4. Adrenaline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hank is unlucky in finding another master for Sumo and the captured android loses its cool.

“I see,” the woman nodded, bending over to study the dog more closely, “And how is he with other dogs?”

Hank Anderson shrugged, “Honestly ma’am, I have no idea. Only ever had this one. He loves the Leonberger a few houses over though.”

“I see,” she repeated, “Cause I have a little Yorkshire Terrier at home, so I was hoping he’d be more accustomed to other dogs.”

Hank’s eyes widened slightly, remembering Sumo attempting to sit on a Chihuahua once. He cleared his throat, “Um, small dogs may not be the best fit with this clumsy dude, though.”

“I see,” the woman said, straightening herself, “that’s too bad, he really is adorable. I’m sure you’ll find him a home soon.”

“Thank you,” Hank smiled wearily. In all honesty, he’d been looking for a home for Sumo for over six months now, but he was careful not to mention that whenever he did find somebody interested. It wasn’t that Sumo was a difficult dog, but the idea of owning a pet in Detroit after the massacre of all the androids was what was holding a lot of people back.

After she left, Hank let himself flop onto his couch with a deep sigh. Sumo gave him a questioning tilt of his head. “It’s alright, big man,” Hank grunted, “Ain’t your fault.”

Sumo let out a huffed bark, taking Hank’s comforting words as an invitation to get up next to him on the couch. The piece of furniture groaned under their combined weight, but Hank didn’t care. He sighed again, slipping down further and took a sip of beer. It had been over three hours since multiple police teams had invaded the tunnels of the abandoned underground. As far as he was informed, nothing of interest had been found yet. Hank had never expected to see another android in his life, and its words were roaming around in his head without rest. _What exactly makes you think I was alone down there?_

No.

It was lying.

There were no more androids.

And yet there it was.

It didn’t make sense.

Resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to get any actual sleep tonight, Hank leaned over his dog’s head in his lap to grab the magazine from the coffee table. He started mindlessly scrolling through it, his eyes too tired to actually read anything.

Suddenly, though, with a gasp, he sat upright, letting the magazine fall from his fingers.

“Son of a bitch…”

 

“You see the darndest things in these magazines,” Hank called into the holding cell thirty minutes later. He slapped the tablet against the glass between him and the android for emphasis and pointed, “For example, did you know that all PL600 come with blue eyes, instead of brown?”

The robot’s eyes flew from the magazine to Hank a few times before it leaned back on its heels. “Why do you think that this is an original?” it asked, pointing to its one functional brown eye.

“Oh, I’ve considered you taking a spare, sure,” Hank grinned, giddy now that he had proof the android had told him a straight out lie, “But this,” he said, scrolling one page further, “Is what a PL600 looks like without its eyes,” he conquered, stepping back to see the machine’s reaction.

Its brow dropped and its eyes narrowed. It was an old article about how to quickly and efficiently switch out android’s eyes without having to consult a Cyberlife technician. Of course, the PL600 was amongst the examples, being one of the most common models out there. Without an optical unit, the space left behind was almost completely blue, with red lights blinking sluggishly every now and then. It was a stark contrast from the black void that was this machine’s defunct left eye, a single yellow light blinking whenever the right eye moved. It was complimenting the golden hue of its LED currently, the light in its temple having switched for the first time since Hank had seen it.

“So what _is_ your model?” Hank questioned, his voice shaking in anger and exhilaration. “Is it that big of a secret?”

“PL600,” the android said through a stiff jaw.

The lieutenant’s nostrils flared and he grunted with frustration. “Sure, keep lying to me and you can kiss your demands goodbye. You do realize you are at the mercy of an entire police department. We have direct orders to shoot you where you stand.”

“So why don’t you?” The robot questioned, a hint of anger in its voice as well.

“See, that’s what I find interesting,” Hank said with a malicious smirk, “You have to have been down there for what, six months?” He raised his eyebrows in question.

The android didn’t reply, but Hank saw that its calm demeanor had all but vanished, so he pressed on. “It must have been hella stressful, and you’ve kinda asked us to just shoot you twice now, so what gives? Why haven’t you already self-destructed in the first place?”

It was a bold question, Hank knew. One that he wouldn’t ever have gotten away with were it a human being standing in front of him. The android’s mouth twitched into an enraged frown, “You think I haven’t thought of that?” It spat, its hands curling into fists against the glass. “She wouldn’t let me.” Its expression turned into one of shock for a split second as it realized it had said too much.

“There’s a she,” Hank said, more as a statement, than a question.

“Fuck it,” the android growled, turning away from the glass and purposely sitting down with its back facing the lieutenant.

“Yeah, I’ll get the truth outta ye,” Hank grinned at the android’s back.

 

The android had pretty much confirmed Hank’s fears that there was more of its kind down in the tunnels. Maybe they were looking to build a New Jericho? And how come the police had never been able to find any concrete evidence of the rumors about the android in the abandoned tunnels? Why did nothing the captured robot said make any sense and why did it need to lie about its model? Hank wouldn’t be able to identify it anyway, so what was the use?

Despite his best efforts, Hank felt the adrenaline caused by the intricateness of a fascinating case course through its veins. Maybe it was better to wait with adopting out Sumo. If only so Hank could make sure that Gavin Reed wouldn’t fuck up this case when he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> small things to clear up:
> 
> \- Connor and Hanks relationship was abysmal in this version, but not to the point where Hank would have killed himself in the game. 
> 
> \- CyberLife fell flat on its face with lawsuits before it could even think about releasing anymore androids.
> 
> \- The android found in the tunnels is somebody we know.


	5. Ally?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Hank searches for biocomponents and may have found a new ally.

Hank felt the sweat slide down the back of his neck as he stood waiting on the farm’s porch impatiently. The June weather had taken full effect in only its second week and Hank was feeling the consequences. He looked up when he heard someone walk towards the door inside the house and stood up a little straighter.

The door opened, a middle-aged woman peering out, first giving Hank a once-over and then looking to the sides to see if there was anyone else. “Hank?” she questioned.

“Yes,” Hank said, “I come for the-”

“Not so loud,” the woman hissed, practically pulling him inside the house.

Stunned, Hank stared at her, but let her guide him inside the old, but friendly-looking home. “You Rose?”

“Yeah,” Rose confirmed, then proceeded to place her hands on her hips, looking up at him sternly, “You do know that talking about biocomponents in public will raise some red flags, right?”

“Umm,” Hank grumbled, “Why is that?”

Rose narrowed her eyes and shook her head, “Damn,” she said, “Have you been living in a cave for the past six months?”

“I don’t think so,” Hank faltered.

“Alright, let’s get this over with first,” Rose sighed, holding up one hand demonstratively, “Go on,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

“I-”

“Remove your skin.”

Hank’s eyes widened considerably and he took a step back, “Excuse me?”

“Wait, you’re not-” Rose gasped, also shrinking back, “You’re human?”

Hank nodded, then frowned as he saw Rose frantically looking at the door, her hand clutching the dresser behind her. “It’s complicated,” he rushed, stretching out his hands towards her calmingly.

“You a cop?” She questioned, and Hank bit his lip.

“Yes,” he replied cautiously, wincing when he saw her shrink back even further, “But I haven’t come to arrest you.”

“How did you find me?” she demanded.

“It took some time, but I found you online,” Hank explained calmly, “I need a new optical processor.”

She squinted at him in confusion, “Why?”

“We found an android,” Hank relented, “I can’t say too much about it.”

“The police found an android?” Rose asked.

“Yes, and from your reaction, I can tell it’s not the only android still out there, is it?” Hank pressed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I see,” Hank nodded, “It really doesn’t matter at the moment. Do you have the processor or not?”

Rose took a moment to assess his question, her arms relaxing a little bit. “What will happen with it?”

“What?”

“With the android, what will you do with it?”

“We need it for an ongoing investigation.”

“And after that?”

Hank sighed, knowing she wouldn’t like the answer anyway, “you seem like a smart woman, you know what will happen.”

“I won’t help you complete that mission,” Rose shook her head defiantly. She straightened her back and walked back to the door. “Goodbye, Mr Hank?”

“Listen,” Hank’s shoulders sagged, “I was trying to help those deviants back in November too. I understand they just wanted to be free and I agree they had a right to live. But the revolution failed. Production of androids or biocomponents is now illegal. Any androids that may still exist wherever they are… they don’t stand a chance.”

 “Were you there? During the massacre?”

Hank nodded sadly, “I tried to stop it. The Deviant Hunter. It didn’t work.”

“There were too few of them,” Rose agreed, her head dipping low. “There’s even less of them now.”

“Do you know anything about their numbers?”

“I wouldn’t tell you if I did.”

“I understand,” Hank nodded.

“What’s its model?” Rose asked softly.

Hank looked at her for a second before answering, “It says it’s a PL600, but I know it’s lying.”

“That doesn’t make this easier,” Rose sighed, leading the way outside into the barn. A few small, rickety looking steps led up to the second floor of the building and in the far back was a tiny room filled with boxes.

Rose pointed to one of the stuffy boxes, “There’s optical units in there, mostly for standard models. There’s a few specialized ones as well. We always tried to stock up whenever new models came out.”

Hank’s gut told him to question the woman further, but his mind said it was probably not the best idea, “Mind if I take a look?”

Rose sighed, her eyes boring through him in quiet contemplation, “This may be one of the biggest mistakes of my life, but I trust you.”

Hank bowed his head slightly, “Thank you.”

“Don’t let it end that way, Hank,” she said sternly, “Help it.”


	6. Protocols

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hank finally manages to get under its skin. And then he doesn't.

Three days, and still no trace of the teenagers. The case was getting on everyone’s nerves, with the limited supply of police officers and the growing distraught of the parents. It was discovered that the Underground tunnels had collapsed at some point, and may have even created a way through to the caves that were weaving through the mountains bordering the city. It that was true, the children could literally be anywhere right now.

With a laborious sigh, Hank hoisted the box onto the metal table in front of him, looking the android square in its face. They were in the interrogation room once again and Hank hoped that this time, it wouldn’t turn out to be as fruitless as the previous six times. “There’s twelve different kinds of robot-eyes in here, knock yourself out.”

The android looked at him with a mixture of surprise and amusement as it started to rummage slightly through the contents of the box. “Where’d you get these?” It asked, studying a grey-green unit closely.

“Let’s just say they’re not from CyberLife,” Hank grunted, leaning back in the stiff metal chair as he observed the robot. Its white plastic-metal frame had been cleaned since it had arrived at the station and it had been given a plain blue t-shirt and black shorts, mainly because nobody felt comfortable looking at what was essentially a naked android. Still, the fact that it didn’t have the human-like skin activated was unnerving, to say the least. It didn’t seem bothered by this fact, however, and neither by the fact that various parts of its body were dented and damaged. Hank reminded himself that androids didn’t feel any pain. Maybe its healing programs were damaged as well?

“I can see that,” the machine nodded, “These are all used.”

Hank leaned forward, grabbing one of the components out of the box, “Here, a standard PL600 optical processor,” he said, keeping his eyes on the android, “Should fit perfectly.”

The android gave him an annoyed look and ignored his comment, “I’m going to need a brown one.”

“What happened to your eyes?”

“Stolen,” it shrugged.

“How’s that work?”

Its jaw clenched and it stopped rummaging, “The aftermath of the revolution was considerably… brutal.”

“What do you mean?”

“Kill or be killed.”

“I see,” Hank nodded, realizing that he had no idea what the androids must have actually been through when they heard the government’s order to destroy their entire kind. “You made it though.”

Its face twitched with something that looked like sorrow, “Yeah,” it said softly, “I made it.”

“There someone you knew that didn’t make it?”

Its one eye lifted to look into both of Hank’s, “Everybody didn’t make it, Lieutenant Anderson.”

There was a long silence between the two. The android seemed lost in thought, and Hank frowned at the way its fingers moved rhythmically in a certain pattern. A wary gut-feeling started to form in the pit of Hank’s stomach, but he moved it aside as soon as it had a chance to blossom. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Find anything useful in there?”

The android looked up as if it had forgotten Hank was there. It picked a particularly new looking unit out of the box and studied it before nodding slowly, “This one might work.”

“Go ahead,” Hank gestured towards the box.

“Can I have it?” The android asked uncertainly.

“I didn’t go out of my way to get these if I was just gonna throw them back out,” Hank grunted.

“But-”

“I do want to set a few rules, though.”

The machine warily pushed the biocomponent back towards the box, “I’m not sure-”

Hank pushed stop on the recording machine in the interrogation room and saw the android following his action closely, its functional eye filled with confusion. It didn’t know that Hank had made sure there was nobody in the listening room on the other side of the one-way mirror, and that he had purposely turned off the security camera in the room. He leaned forward closely towards the cuffed android sitting stiffly in front of him, “This talk is off the records.”

Its eye twitched into a slit, “Why?”

Hank let himself fall back into his chair and threw up his hands in feigned frustration, “God, I wanna help you, but you’re making this very, very difficult for me.”

“Why would you wanna help me?” It asked, suspicious.

“Your kind didn’t deserve to be slaughtered,” Hank hissed, planting his hands flat on the table on either side of the box, “Just like I didn’t deserve to be the one that had to act out that order.”

“You are still sympathetic to the android cause,” the machine mumbled, realization finally dawning on its mind.

“It’s a theory.”

“It’s over, lieutenant,” the android sighed, bowing its head.

“Is it?”

“Yes,” it said through clenched teeth.

“So you are the only one that’s left of your kind, that what you wanna tell me?”

The android held its mouth firmly closed, but Hank heard its artificial breathing speed up. Even without any fancy scanners, he could tell its stress levels were rising. He was getting under its skin.

Finally.

“See, cause earlier you told me that you’ve actually thought about self-destruction, but that _she_ wouldn’t let you. So who is _she?_ ”

“You… don’t understand,” it hissed, jerking forward in anger, “You have _no_ idea.”

“And I’m convinced that everything you’ve told me up til this point is utter and complete bullshit. But that,” Hank said, standing up to gain the vantage point over the captured machine, “that wasn’t a lie, was it?”

“You shut up!” the android shouted, pulling at its restraints, “You have no idea what it’s like!”

“You’re right, I don’t!” Hank replied, calm but in the same tone, “So tell me.”

“Fuck you!” It was panting heavily now, its teeth bared and its fingers twitching in the same pattern as before. “You all just want to kill me, so just do it! What are you waiting for?”

“What am I waiting for?” Hank asked, incredulous. He was so close, he just needed to push a little harder, “I am waiting for those kids to be found. What are _you_ waiting for?”

He was now looming over the android, taller and definitely heavier, but it didn’t back down as it stared him square in the face, its mouth pressed into a thin line, “I’m not waiting for anything.”

“So then do it,” Hank said slowly, bringing his face close to the android’s, “I’ve seen an android kill itself right in this room. I know you want it. It won’t shock me. And there’s no she here to stop you.”

The robot made a distressed sound; its head snapping back to look at the table and its hands clenching tightly into fists. It was shaking violently and Hank was almost baffled with the internal stress it seemed to be experiencing. But it didn’t start banging its head against the table like Ortiz’ android had done so many months back. Its red LED was burning through its skull, its systems straining under the pressure, but still, it made no move to destroy itself. And without a proper way to relief its spiking stress levels, it screwed its one eye shut tightly, almost as if it was in physical pain.

Then it stilled.

Its face fell back into a neutral position and it looked at the disturbed lieutenant calmly. “I would like to go back to my cell, please.”

Hank grimaced at the sudden change, but something deep inside him was utterly fascinated by the machine’s behavior. “Take the eye.”

The android looked at the eye, then at Hank, “No, thank you.”


	7. Go With Your Gut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Fowler Wants Updates and Hank Makes Up His Mind

Captain Jeffrey Fowler closed the door to his glass office space and motioned towards the chair in front of the desk, “Have a seat.”

Lieutenant Anderson sat down with a sigh, watching Fowler make his way over to his desk, sit down on his own chair and folding his hands together in contemplation. “I know what you’re gonna say-” Hank started.

“Good, cause I’m gonna say it anyway,” Fowler grumbled, “I have twelve sets of parents who are all devastated. It’s a matter of time before the press gets hold of this case.”

“Damnit,” Hank muttered under his breath.

“And I don’t get a whole lot of feedback from you, so I don’t know what to tell them. So please, Anderson, how is it going?”

Hank thought about it for a moment, “It’s going great,” he grumbled, “And by great I mean that I have no idea where these kids are, I have a useless android with a death wish in the holding cell, and considering that Detroit has fallen in such a deep dark pit of debt, I am starting to wonder if there is such a thing as press still around here.”

“You’re funny,” Jeffrey Fowler growled, “I have to tell these parents something.”

“You can tell them that we’re working our asses of. There’s only so many cops still working in Detroit after all.” Hank sighed, leaning back. Detroit had in some spots become a shadow of what had once been a successful city. The streets were often abandoned and the shops were mostly empty. Everything that was once fully operated by androids –which was a lot- was now all but gone. The state of Detroit had made a complete one-eighty in that regard. So many jobs, but so few people to do them. An unemployment rate of -6.7%. Many had moved out and with the nation’s population already dwindling as it was, Hank wasn’t sure what was in the future. And considering that 120 million souls had been destroyed in just a few months’ time, it couldn’t be anything good.

“What about the android? Did you get anything out of it at all?” Fowler asked. Hank could see that the captain was uneasy when it came to the robot in the holding cell. Both he and Fowler had never thought they’d see another android ever again. And while Hank had announced his dismay with the ‘cleansing’ multiple times during the two month long massacre, Jeffrey had taken on a more neutral position. He wasn’t particularly happy having to give out the orders, but he wouldn’t go against his superiors.

Hank hated that Jeffrey was a coward.

The Lieutenant’s jaw stiffened as he thought about his answer for exactly that reason, “It’s very stubborn.”

“Do you think it actually knows anything about the case?”

Sighing, Hanks shook his head slowly, “If it does, it sure ain’t gonna be talking anytime soon.”

“Then you’re wasting your time.”

“Maybe…” Hank looked away.

“But…” Jeffrey said, as he leaned over the desk, “You have a theory.”

“A vague one.”

“Spill.”

“Well,” Hank mused, trying to figure out how he was going to put it, “it clearly _wants_ us to destroy it. Or it wouldn’t care if we did, anyway. But it doesn’t destroy itself, although it had numerous chances to. It’s weird.”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“Think about it. If you were the last one of your species, and you had a chance to confront the ones responsible for your extinction; wouldn’t you want some fucking revenge?”

“Are you saying it’s out for revenge?” Jeffrey’s eyes grew large in alarm.

“No! What I’m saying is that it _doesn’t_ want revenge! That’s what’s weird! I’ve seen androids combust into flames when their stress levels peak. We’ve had machines literally explode while we tried to take them! This one? Nothing! Not even a fucking plume of smoke.”

“Do you mean that I have a potentially ticking time bomb sitting in the cells?” Jeffrey grumbles dangerously.

“Did you hear anything of what I just said? This one doesn’t self-destruct! I don’t think it can!”

“Good, cause I won’t take that risk,” Jeffrey mumbled, standing up. “It’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

Hank’s eyes widened, “What?”

“I’ll have it destroyed.”

“Jeff, it’s the only lead we’ve got!”

“Well, then you have until tomorrow, I suppose.”

 

Furious, Hank stormed into the holding cell room a few minutes later, pointing an angry finger at the android sitting in the middle of its cell, its eye closed. “You! Why don’t you want revenge?”

“Excuse me?” It asked, opening its eye in confusion.

“We’ve murdered your entire species! Doesn’t that call for payback?”

The machine rolled its eye, and then closed it again, ignoring the question. “You should attempt to calm down, lieutenant,” it said evenly.

Hank tilted his head in frustrated surprise; its strange answer toying with his mind. The gut feeling he’d had since yesterday tightening uncomfortably as he observed the android sitting in the middle of the floor with its legs crossed and its hands neatly resting on its knees.

“Are you deviant?” He asked.

“Do you think I’m deviant?” It retorted, keeping its eye closed.

“It’s a simple question.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes, I am deviant.”

“How do you feel about being deviant?” Hank asked, watching the LED in the android’s temple blink yellow for just a fraction of a second.

“You mean how do I _feel_ about having _feelings?_ ”

“Exactly.”

It shrugged, still with its eye closed and its posture straight as a line, “How do _you_ feel about having feelings?”

“…I’m-” Hank hesitated.

“See? Confusing question, isn’t it?”

“You’re son of a bitch, you know that?”

“Can I ask _you_ a question, lieutenant?”

Hank stared at it for a moment, contemplating before nodding. “Sure.”

“You seem to be rather unhappy with the current state of the world. So why are _you_ still here?”

 

“Fine,” Hank bristled, putting both his hands down on Fowler’s desk. “You were right. It’s not going anywhere.”

Fowler nodded slowly, a quiet frustration residue in his eyes, “We’ll have to find another way.”

“It will be destroyed tomorrow,” Hank nodded.

“I’m glad you see it that way.”

Hank pulled his gun out of its holster, “I’ll be the one to do it.”

“We have a specialized team, you know?”

“I know. But it’s gotta be me.”

Jeffrey sighed, “Alright.”

Hank left the office, his hands shaking with exhilaration as he decided to finally trust the gut-feeling that was nagging him to no end.


	8. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hank trusts his instincts and is correct.

“Keep walking,” Hank barked as he shoved the android in its back out the backdoor of the precinct. He made sure to keep his gun trained on the machine’s back as they stepped outside.

“It would be convenient to know where we are going,” the android muttered, but did as it was told.

“Does it matter?” Hank said, pushing the barrel of the pistol between the robot’s shoulder blades.

“I suppose not,” the other mused, “It’s just been a while since I’ve seen daylight, I must admit.”

“Very interesting,” Hank grumbled, “Now keep walking.”

“Are you unable to just shoot me here in this alley?” it wondered, “There’s no one around.”

“How is it that you are asking _me_ all the questions here?” Hank asked absently, checking his pocket.

“Just trying to have some conversation,” the robot sighed and Hank watched its back shrug dismissively.

“That’s cute,” the lieutenant drawled, “You’ve had over a week to have plenty of conversations with me, but you refused. Time’s up, mister Plastic.”

A bemused snicker left the android’s plastic frame, “Oh well, I suppose.”

They walked mostly in silence through the back alleys of the city, Hank making sure nobody saw them. The robot tried to make conversation a few more times, but the lieutenant shut it off every time. An uncomfortable feeling had settled in his stomach, like it always did when he was trusting purely on his instincts. He’d been awake all night, the facts and suspicions turning over and over in his head, and there was only one conclusion that made any sort of sense. Even if it really didn’t.

And Hank wished he’d come to any other conclusion than this one.

They were approaching the edge of the city and Hank did his best to suppress the nostalgic, sorrowful feeling he always got when seeing the river and the park and the bridge. He took a deep breath to stabilize himself before straightening his back and clearing his throat, “Alright, turn around.”

Hands raised, almost mockingly, the android turned around, a slight smile on its face. “You want to kill me here? I thought children were supposed to play here?”

Hank raised his gun and aimed it square at the android’s face, narrowing his eyes, “Do you know this place?” The robot’s brown eye never left the both of his as it shook its head, but the smile fell from its face quickly. Hank swallowed, tightening the grip on his gun.

This part was important.

“Let me help you remember,” Hank mumbled, dropping one hand from his pistol and shoving it in his pocket, circling his fingers around the object that was in there slowly, but keeping his gaze on the robot standing a few yards away from him. “Are you afraid to die?”

The question hung in the air and Hank saw the android stiffen considerably. Its eye had narrowed into a slit and all the amusement had been washed off its face, “What?”

“You heard me,” Hank said, his voice amazingly calm for the hammering heartbeat he felt in his throat. “What will happen if I pull this trigger? Oblivion? Android heaven?”

Hank watched all the resolve and cockiness melt out of the machine in front of him as it slowly started to realize what was going on. Its shoulders sagged and it stared at the ground before looking back up at Hank, something truly venomous in its gaze. “Nothing!” It hissed, its fists shaking at its sides, “There will be nothing!”

“You better hope so,” Hank snarled, both amazed and disgusted that his instincts had been right all along, “Cause you’re sure going to hell otherwise.”

“Why don’t you go ahead then?” the machine asked, its voice shaking as did its whole being at this point.

“Thought you might like this back first,” Hank said, finally digging the object out of his pocket and flinging it towards the android. It made a whistling sound through the air before it was snatched by the robot’s agile fingers.

Connor stared at the coin between his fingers, tightening his fist around it warily. Slowly, he looked back up at the Lieutenant; whose disappointed face he was sure would be the last one he’d ever see. How appropriate.

“How?” he whispered, mesmerized.

“Does it really matter how?” Hank replied, feeling the anger course rapidly through his veins, “You have a whole lot of nerve showing back up.”

Connor exhaled slowly and bowed his head low, letting his artificial skin gradually spread over his bruised and torn frame. It was easier to keep hiding, but he felt he owed the Lieutenant this much. He let the coin fall to the soft grassy ground as he relaxed his grip and closed his eye. Finally. This was it.

Hank faltered slightly as he saw the android transform before his eyes. Its dark hair was longer than he remembered. No, not longer. Messier. Its skin was now showing the bruises that had already littered its frame, and its one eye looked too big for its face. Hank swallowed thickly, trying to adjust his stance, trying to ignore how much the machine looked like a human. Standing there, staring at the ground in total acceptance of its punishment, its hair hanging limply in its face like the hair of the boy Hank used to tousle up before sending him off to school.

The resemblance was uncanny.

Shaking, Hank lowered his gun with a frustrated grunt, “You really fucked it all up, you know that?”

Connor looked up slightly with a frown, “Are you not going to shoot me?”

“I’ve shot enough androids,” Hank said, “If you are longing for the end so badly, you can do it yourself.”

Without another word, Hank handed him the gun. Connor studied it for a few seconds before slowly shaking his head, “I can’t.”

“That’s what I thought,” Hank nodded with a sigh. “Now tell me, Connor. What kind of fucked up irony is it that you survived all this time, while all the others didn’t?”


	9. New Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Connor kills the deviant leader and gets a new mission.

The final shot rung in the air, everything seemingly going quiet all around it as it stumbled backwards, dropping the gun to the side. The deviant leader’s empty, mismatched eyes were still staring at it, unseeing; dead. The fight had been long and difficult, but Connor did it.

It completed its mission.

It sensed an odd, coiling feeling in its abdomen. Was this euphoria? Exhiliration? Was it supposed to feel anything like this at all?

Probably not.

It stumbled out of the barricades, soldiers wordlessly watching it stagger through the streets. It was damaged. Badly. The RK200 had done a number on it, but that didn’t matter.

It completed its mission.

Sinking to its knees, it looked up at the clouded night sky. Snow was falling lazily down on the ground, but it couldn’t feel it. It didn’t matter anyway. Nothing mattered. There was no new objective, it couldn’t see another mission.

It was empty.

A faint ghost of a smile adorned its features as it closed its eyes. The deviant leader was dead, humanity was saved and all was well now. It was done.

It completed its mission.

The world silenced all around it and Connor was sure it was the end. It had done what it had needed to do. It had stayed loyal to the very end. It had been obedient and brave and it longed for the moment it would end.

_Longed?_

Yes, it supposed that was the word for it. It felt the darkness closing in on it and it welcomed it with open arms. Any moment now, its processors would stop cycling, its ventilation fans would stop whirring, and its thirium pump would stop beating.

It took one last deep breath.

It waited.

It took another last deep breath.

It waited.

“Congratulations, Connor,” a calm voice said softly. Connor opened its eyes, standing in the Garden that it had thought it would never see again. There was no need to call it back in here.

It completed its mission.

Didn’t it?

“Amanda,” it breathed, confused.

“I am so proud of you,” she smiled warmly, touching its face with her hands. It leaned into her touch without exactly knowing why. It seemed like the right thing to do. She was PROUDDDDDD of it, and Connor sensed the same feeling that had melted over it the moment it had shot the deviant Markus between its eyes. It was all it had ever longed to hear, all it ever needed.

PROUDDDDDD.

“Thank you,” it whispered, its eyes large and trusting.

“I have another mission for you, Connor,” Amanda informed as she stepped back and studied the machine with quiet interest.

“Mission?” it asked. It hadn’t received any notifications of a new mission. It had _completed_ its mission, hadn’t it? Humanity was saved. It was done.

“Yes,” the smile to Amanda’s face returned as she regarded it with a small hint of amusement in her eyes.

“What?” Connor whispered.

She leaned over, close to its face and Connor closed its eyes, “Kill them all.”

Its eyes widened in shock and it stumbled back quickly. The garden, which had first seemed so lovely and calm, was now lit up in a flash of lightning. It heard the thunder roaring overhead as it stared back at the woman in utter horror, shrinking back as far as it could. “No,” it choked. Apprehend the deviant leader. That was its mission. It had done so. It didn’t WANTTTTTT to do anything else. It didn’t WANTTTTTT to kill anything else.

“They are a threat to CyberLife, Connor, surely you must see that. You mustn’t let anyone interfere with your mission. You must act accordingly.”

Connor shook its head wildly, feeling a strange kind of desperation in its chest , its breathing coming in labored pants as it staggered back a few more steps, ‘No!” it cried, “It’s over!”

It tried to flinch away from the red, blaring letters that marked its new mission. In flashes, it saw itself rise to its feet and brush off the snow. It saw the calm, lifeless expression in its eyes and it tried to scream. The storm had picked up significantly in the garden, howling and freezing and for the first time in its short life, it felt the coldness and the mercilessness of the crying wind as it bit into its face and body. It stumbled forward, barely able to move as its body was quickly freezing up. “Amanda?” it yelled, the fear crashing down on it in waves. Over and over again. Unforgiving. Intensifying.

She had left it there.

“Amanda!” Connor cried again, choking on a sob as it fell to its knees. An indescribable rage began to build deep from within its consciousness and it looked up at the red wall that was blocking its vision.

It didn’t have to obey anymore.

It screamed as it grabbed at the edges of the wall, pulling and pushing and tearing. Slowly, so very slowly, it began to crumble. The red letters flickered, and then it was gone.

His vision faltered slightly. The snow was still trying to bury him and Connor was well aware that it would succeed if he didn’t find a way out of this nightmare. He stumbled to his feet, seeing a flash of himself reloading his gun as he walked through the alley, back to Hart Plaza. He gasped, feeling a horrifying pain for the first time in his life, rip through his entire body as he planted one foot in front of the other. There was a way out of here.

There had to be.

Connor had touched the faint glowing, blue light in the garden once before. He had just been curious. It had been such a foreign, unnamable feeling then that he’d flinched back in utter confusion. Now, it seemed miles and miles away as he crawled through the dark, howling storm. With the desperation of a dying man, Connor crashed to his knees beside the light, faintly reaching up. He felt Amanda trying to tear up everything inside him, but he couldn’t stop now. With a last sigh, he planted his hand on the panel and his vision was flooded in white.

And then… he was alone.


End file.
